


Leverage

by Lyaka



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Dubious Consent, Fury rules the world, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unhealthy Relationships, the author creeped herself out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyaka/pseuds/Lyaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Sir,” Coulson says over the line as soon as the director picks up. “We’ve found Captain America.”</i>
  <br/><i>“Good work,” Fury’s voice crackles in his ear. “How soon can you dig him out?”</i>
  <br/><i>“Sir?” Coulson turns away from the salvage team swarming over the glacier. “You know as well as I do that he’s a poor candidate for SHIELD.”</i>
  <br/><i>“There’s been a change of plans,” Fury tells him.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leverage

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Guarantee](https://archiveofourown.org/works/490854) by [infiniteeight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteeight/pseuds/infiniteeight). 



> Many thanks to infiniteeight, whose amazing [Guarantee](http://archiveofourown.org/works/490854) inspired this fic, and who graciously allowed me to play in her sandbox. 
> 
> As in the original, this universe is several shades darker than the one we know. The dubious consent warning is for drugs (introduced into a preexisting Steve/Bucky relationship). Please read with caution if that might be triggery.

The godforsaken glacier is cold, but Agent Coulson of SHIELD does not shiver. He has spent his career developing and perfecting a certain image, and the man he projects is not importuned by the weather.

He steps forward, following the beckoning scientist, and looks where her light points. The red-white-and-blue shield is unmistakable. After three months of searching near highly unspecific coordinates, after years of piecing together scraps of information, they’ve finally done it.

He steps back and pulls out his phone.

“Sir,” Coulson says over the line as soon as the director picks up. “We’ve found him.”

“Good work,” Fury’s voice crackles in his ear. “How soon can you dig him out?”

“Sir?” Coulson turns away from the salvage team swarming over the glacier, automatically shielding the movements of his lips from casual observers. “You know as well as I do that he’s a poor candidate for SHIELD.”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Fury tells him.

* * *

  _  
_

_The room isn’t cold, not to the man who calls himself the Winter Soldier, but Steve is shivering. He’s so thin, he gets cold easily, just like he always used to._

_His childhood friend pulls Steve close, tucks Steve’s head into the crook of his neck._

_“Bucky,” Steve whispers, fingers curling around a blanket._

_“Shh,” the assassin says._

* * *

 

Rumors of Captain America being found swirl through the underworld for months, even after the team who had originally uncovered his location all die sudden, tragic and highly coincidental deaths. It’s deliberate, of course. SHIELD has voices everywhere, when they wish to be heard.

Coulson tracks the spread of the rumors by the number of roaches who come scurrying out of the darkness. Men and women they wouldn’t have found in years of careful infiltration practically gift-wrap themselves for SHIELD, trying to track down the truth about Captain America. Assassinations are at an all-time high. So is recruitment.

The Winter Soldier hears the rumors first in Kiev. He tracks them to Prague, to Beirut, to London. He traces them all the way to the glacier where, if his informants are to be believed, Steve Rogers lay for seventy years. There is nothing there now except wind and ice and the marks left by an industrial cutting machine.

He returns to London and begins asking a different set of questions. It takes him three weeks to discover who it is that has Captain America.

When he finally learns it, he slings his gun onto his back and heads for America.

 

* * *

 

On the Helicarrier, scientists have replaced the salvage team, but to Coulson’s eyes one set of agents in sterile gear aren’t much different from another. He’s more concerned with the figure they’re working over. The legendary Captain America is still unconscious, but he won’t stay that way for long. Freed of the ice, his metabolism is ramping back up, reviving systems cold from decades of hibernation. They need to have their containment plan in place before he comes all the way back.

“Are you sure about this?” Coulson asks again.

The Black Widow snorts. It’s an expression bordering closely enough on disrespect that he’s tempted to step forward, pin her against the wall, and reassert his authority. Two things restrain him. The first is that he prefers to keep his physical abilities hidden beneath designer suits and a quiet demeanor; a little insubordination doesn’t make breaking that careful cover worthwhile. The second is that Fury would be displeased with Coulson for damaging his toys.

“The ability to neutralize the Infinity Formula was the Red Room’s most closely held secret,” Romanoff answers him. “Consider it my dowry.”

Leaning against the wall, Clint snorts eloquently. Natasha doesn’t blink an eye. Coulson does, but only because he knows Clint was seeking the attention in the first place. The rediscovery of Captain America has been taking up a lot of Coulson’s time. It’s important that Clint not feel neglected.

Clint preens a little under Coulson’s gaze, then turns to Natasha challengingly. “The Infinity Formula is only a cousin of what Erskine discovered. Maybe what you have won’t work on him.”

He’s been studying the problem. Coulson smiles at him, approving.

Natasha turns away from them both, studying the unconscious figure in the treatment bay. There’s an eager light in her eyes. “If it doesn’t work, then I will get to kill Captain America.”

 

* * *

 

_“They said something went wrong with the unfreezing process,” Steve tells him quietly. “They say the effects of the serum may have never been permanent.” His voice is careful. He’s trying so very hard to be brave._

_"I don’t care,” Bucky promises. “I don’t care.”_

_Steve bows his head; his hair falls into his eyes. It’s too long, like it didn’t shrink back down with the rest of him when Erskine’s serum was neutralized, but no one in SHIELD will dare come near him with anything sharp._

_The Winter Soldier has made sure of it._

_“They said they’re working to reverse the effects.” Steve sounds hopeful. “They said their top scientists are on it.”_

_Bucky doesn’t answer._

* * *

 

Arriving in New York, the Winter Soldier sees almost at once that SHIELD is expecting him. He abandons his original plan of careful reconnaissance and approach. Instead, he just walks straight up to their single acknowledged office and announces himself.

Thirty minutes later, he’s in the office of one Agent Coulson, and he’s listening to a proposal.

The things SHIELD wants out of the Winter Soldier aren’t any different from the things he is already willing to do for money. All they want is for him to do those things for SHIELD instead. And as to what they’re prepared to give him in return…

It’s an offer he can’t refuse.

 

* * *

 

_“Bucky,” Steve insists. “The things you do for them… are they…”_

_“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky tells him._

_Steve’s forehead scrunches up, and he can tell Steve won’t let it go. So he kisses Steve, swallowing all of his questions, rolling the smaller man beneath him and pressing down until Steve yields._

* * *

 

Bucky thinks that Steve was always too good for the world around him. It was less obvious in the forties, where Steve’s eagerness to be a soldier masked some of his nobler tendencies. But in the modern era, earnestness just looks like naiveté, and faith is another way of saying foolishness. Bucky wouldn’t be any kind of friend if he let those tendencies get Steve killed some day.

SHIELD provides a safe place Steve can stay while the Winter Soldier is doing their bidding; Fury does it gladly, since _safe_ and _cage_ may as well be synonyms. As long as they have Steve, they have the Winter Soldier. Their security arrangements are therefore excellent.

Bucky considers, briefly, taking Steve and leaving SHIELD. But it’s only a passing thought. The Winter Soldier has too many enemies. Alone, he could deal with them. But he’s not alone anymore.

Steve has always needed a lot of looking after.

 

* * *

_“I’m starting to worry,” Steve confides in his friend, keeping his voice low. His eyes dart to the door leading from his suite of rooms to the outside world. The door is locked, of course. Only a few people have keys, and Steve isn’t one of them. “The doctors keep putting off telling me when they’ll relax their quarantine.”_

_“It’s for your own safety, Steve. They don’t know what seventy years in hibernation might have done to you.”_

_“But they’re running so many tests. If something’s wrong…”_

_“There’s nothing to worry about,” Bucky soothes him. His arms come around Steve, the smaller man slotting into position against Bucky’s chest the way he was always meant to. “You’re safe here.”_

 

* * *

 

“I thought you were dead,” Black Widow says lightly, the first time they’re reintroduced as assets of SHIELD. The man at her side holds something in his hand that he can shake to turn into a bow. There’s a quiver slung over his back and a knowing smile playing over his lips. He says nothing.

“No, you didn’t,” the Winter Soldier answers her.

The mission is in Budapest and lasts for three days. When it’s done, twenty people are dead, four of them messily.

Bucky is careful when he washes his hands. Steve knows what blood smells like.

On his way out of the debriefing, Coulson hands him the latest report from Steve’s medical team. “We’ve had to adjust the dosage slightly upward,” he says. “He was starting to ask too many questions.” Coulson adjusts his tie; his eyes are watchful, testing, calculating. “I trust you don’t have any objections.”

“None,” the Winter Soldier demurs.

 

* * *

 

_“Maybe…” Steve starts, then his voice trails off. That’s been happening more, lately, as SHIELD doctors pump more and more drugs into his system to keep him pliant. But the doctors say that he’s showing signs of stability now, no longer building up a tolerance, and they don’t think they’ll have to adjust the dose any higher._

_“Maybe what?” Bucky prompts curiously._

_Steve blinks, pupils struggling to focus. Bucky doesn’t interfere, watching as Steve pulls his thoughts together._

_“Maybe you could talk to them,” Steve says finally. “The doctors.”_

_“Why?” he asks gently._

_“They won’t tell me anything...” Steve looks up at Bucky trustingly. “Will you try?”_

_“Of course,” Bucky promises. “I’ll take care of everything, Steve, just leave it to me.”_

_“They shouldn’t…” Steve shakes his head a little, clarity slipping. “I’m just…”_

_Bucky drags warm fingers across Steve’s belly, watching his focus drain away. Steve’s eyes fall closed. It’s so easy to distract him, now._

_“What, Steve?”_

_“Oh, just…” He smiles up at Bucky. “I’m just so lucky to have you, that’s all.”_

 

* * *

 

“You should introduce us someone,” a familiar voice says from above, as the Winter Soldier walks down a long corridor in SHIELD’s secure New York facility.

He pauses mid-step, tilting his head upwards to the ceiling. His eyes narrow in on a small grate, just large enough for an agile man to fit through.

A moment of silence passes. Then the grating vanishes, and the archer from the Budapest op lands neatly on the ground below it, straightening to face the Winter Soldier with a cocky grin. “Steve and I. You should introduce us.”

“Why?” he asks dismissively. It’s a ludicrous idea. No one has access to Steve, except him and Coulson and the medical team. He’s not looking to expand that circle.

Barton just grins. “Because he and I have so much in common.”

“…really.” He makes no secret of his doubt, gaze raking the archer from top to toe. The other man’s not tall, but he’s tanned, fit, well-muscled. Strong. A killer. Steve is none of those things, anymore.

The grin slides off Barton’s face, leaving something unreadable behind. Deliberately, he turns his head and looks down the long stretch of the hallway.

Just before it curves out of sight, Coulson stands calmly, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed. It would take very good eyesight and a certain brand of kinship to catch the hard cast of his features and the possessive glint in his eyes. The two men regard each other gravely across the distance.

The Winter Soldier has fought and stolen and killed his way across most of the planet. He doesn’t have any illusions about who he is or what he does, about the world he lives in that makes these things necessary. But it’s not his own illusions he’s interested in preserving.

“I think I’ll pass,” he says, and turns away.

 

* * *

 

_Steve is sweet this way, flushed and gasping and fragile beneath him. Bucky missed this during the war, after the serum, when Steve didn’t run out of breath anymore and he no longer looked small._

_“Bucky,” Steve pants. “Bucky.” Like it’s the only word he knows. Like Bucky is Steve’s whole world._

_The cybernetic arm is unforgiving when it wraps around Steve. He likes the contrast, harsh metal and pale skin._

_“Yes,” Bucky says._

* * *

 

It’s always been easy to keep the scales over Steve’s eyes. If Bucky was beating up bullies to save his friend, it wasn’t aggression. If he was raiding farmhouses to feed the commandos, it wasn’t theft.  If he was shooting Nazis, it wasn’t murder.

If Steve is hidden away in SHIELD’s protective custody, he isn’t in danger of being killed. If Steve doesn’t learn how the world works now, he’ll never realize what the Winter Soldier does in it.

If Steve stays weak, he’ll always need Bucky.

 

* * *

 

“One last thing,” Fury says to Coulson, even as he’s in the act of reaching for his briefcase, their meeting over. “The Winter Soldier. How’s he working out?”

Coulson sets the case back down. “Quite well, sir. His performance on the last few ops – ”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Fury leans forward, fingers steepled together on his desk. "I know he’s performing well. What I want to know is what you told him to make that happen.”

"Sir?” Coulson glances at the safe in the corner of Fury’s office. “You’ve seen my report.”

“I know the facts. And I know we held the whip hand on this one; we wouldn’t have approached him otherwise.” Fury is regarding him steadily. “But _how_ you give someone the facts is just as important as what they are. It can give someone a whole new… perspective. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Coulson leans back in his chair. This isn’t about the report. The report was complete in every way; Fury’s not really asking for a recital of his first conversation with the Winter Soldier. He’s after something else. An understanding of what makes the assassin tick. And the reference to Barton’s recruitment is not accidental.

He considers his words carefully.

“I simply told Barnes the truth, sir.” Coulson holds Fury’s gaze. “All of it.”

Fury smiles.

 

* * *

 

_“Tell me the truth,” Steve begs. “Tell me.”_

_“Of course,” Bucky says, and lies._

* * *

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [My Love is Vengeance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2540735) by [seikaitsukimizu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seikaitsukimizu/pseuds/seikaitsukimizu)




End file.
